


Tevinter Red

by JENderQueer



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Multi, Shameless Smut, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:41:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21795009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JENderQueer/pseuds/JENderQueer
Summary: Companionship and camaraderie chasing away the dark.The Inquisitor needs comfort.The Tevinter needs to feel pretty.The Ben-Hassrath needs to keep his mouth shut... or not. Turns out not is good too.
Relationships: Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus, Male Inquisitor/Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

We'd started in the tavern; a few drinks with the Chargers, laughter and songs and Cabot's **terrible** ale. A much needed respite from the hard travel and doom. _Herald's Rest indeed._

Dorian had found us there, hungry lips claiming, barely twisting their distaste at the bitter swill lingering on my tongue. Bull had made a lewd comment, laughing delightedly as we'd made simultaneous rude gestures without breaking our kiss. Playful jeering and my lover's lips chased away the mantle of Inquisitor, made me a person again. How I need these moments. Then had come the invitation, whispered words to tease and pauses laced with promise. Still, I'd hesitated. Dorian was ever-tempting, and I truly had longed to lose myself in his embrace once more, but instead I pressed a lingering kiss to that deliciously bare shoulder and sewed it with a promise of my own: "later." My amorous Altus had pouted theatrically, announcing to all that since his advances had been rebuffed he now had no choice but to drown his sorrows. Krem had pushed his tankard into Dorian's hand, clasping his shoulder with the other in an equally dramatic display of mock Tevinter Solidarity. More laughter, more light, more love; companionship and camaraderie chasing away the dark, pushing back the Nightmare. A flicker above had caught my eye as Maryden took up her lute, music soothing frayed nerves further. I'd sent silent thanks to Cole then, the tender spirit who tended to us.

By the end of the song, Dorian had grimaced down the last of the ale and asked if I intended to stay much longer in the tavern or if we could be persuaded to move the party to somewhere with more palatable refreshments. Those words, that casual air, that lightly teasing tone; all chosen so carefully, I knew. _Oh how I love this man_. This time I'd accepted the invitation, one given knowing that "later" may not be upon us soon. We'd given Bull a look he'd read with a Ben-Hassrath's eye and returned with a nod and an easy smile before getting up to follow, trading jibes with his men until the three of us were out the door.

* * *

Now I can relax on my couch with my beloved in my lap, listening to him wax loquacious about Tevinter reds and the barbarism of the south as Bull amicably needles him from his lounging position on the frankly ostentatiously large bed. This softer, quieter version of the tavern's best qualities is the ideal chaser to evening's activities. And for all my desire to shed the mantle of Inquisitor for a time, I have to admit that there are some perks; the private stock from the assorted casks in my quarters are far superior to whatever Cabot was serving. Not for the first time, I make a mental note to speak with Josie and Morris about better quality suppliers - knowing I'll probably forget. Again. A sip of mead washes over my tongue, heady and sweet. I hold it there for a moment, savouring the taste before swallowing. I sigh and nuzzle my face into the crook of the mage's neck, breathing him in. Dorian stutters mid-rant, to the lounging warrior's amusement, and attempts to regain his composure by taking a sip of wine, only to find his goblet empty.

"Here," Bull offers magnanimously, rising from the bed, "let me take care of that for you. I need a refill anyway, if that's okay with you, Boss?"

I wave my consent and begin lazily kissing my lover's artfully exposed skin, suddenly aware of my need to taste him. The cup is taken from unresisting hands, and Dorian forgets to bristle at Bull's quiet chuckle. By the time the refills return, a little more of the pinching behind my eyes has eased and my lover is blushing beautifully. I catch a flash of **something** as that appraising Ben-Hassrath eye takes us in. Bull thuds down heavily on the mattress and Dorian remembers to bristle.

"Careful, you great oaf! How would you like **us** to break **your** bed?"

"That a proposal?"

"You know very well what I mean," he scolds, his flush deepening. "You may have the grace and deportment of a charging gurn but do **try** not to break the furniture?"

"You got something else in mind for me to break?"

" _Fasta vass_! You are the more infuriating, hamfisted, barbaric-"

"Dorian," his tone is low but perfectly amiable. "I promise: I ever break your bed, you'll be right there with me. And for once you won't be complaining about anything. Besides, isn't this the **Boss's** bed? I don't hear **him** complaining."

Said Boss is shaking with silent laughter, barely held back, earning me a stern look from my lover which only serves to give that laughter voice.

"Traitor," Dorian pouts and sulks into his wine, but doesn't resist as my arms wrap him closer.

Still chuckling, I steer the conversation towards dragons: a subject each can speak on with knowledge and passion. We go back and forth for a while before Bull slips into his _taarsidath-an_ _halsaam_ voice and I can only listen as he lies back to reminisce about our last encounter with a high dragon. The horned warrior croons his appreciation for the great beast, recounting our battle. It strikes me suddenly as desperately unfair...

"You know he thinks you're pretty," I murmur softly into my lover's ear, resting my chin on that deliciously exposed shoulder. When did I develop this shoulder kink? Was it some time around Redcliffe? _Don't think about Redcliffe._

"Naturally," Dorian responds, matching my volume.

"Well, of course. He still has **one** good eye." I run my fingers through his featherlight locks. "But I think he'd have made a play for you if I hadn't gotten there first."

"Hmf. His loss is your gain, amatus." He sighs contentedly into my caress before taking a sip of wine.

"Does that mean you **weren't** thinking about Bull pounding either of us into the mattress?"

Dorian splutters into his goblet, half drowning himself in a glorious Tevinter red.

I leap immediately into action, the very picture of concern and care. I ask Bull to fetch a bucket of water before the cloth can stain - the Qunari heads out with a smirk and a promise to return soon in respect for the needs my darling peacock.

" _Kaffas_! What the hell was-"

His words are cut off by a hungry kiss. Fingers find the fastenings on his beautiful but frustrating outfit with practiced ease. It was sliding off his wonderfully sculpted shoulders before he remembered to resist.

" _Amatus_ , what in Andraste's name has-"

"You don't want the stain to set, love."

"And I didn't want to waste one of the few glasses of actually palatable wine I've had in this frigid wasteland either, yet here we are!" He frees himself from the soaking garment and **scowls**. How can he be so lovely even wearing such a sour expression?

"I'm sorry, my love. That stuff about breaking the bed, and then that voice he does, and you in my lap… well, you must have felt-"

"Well, yes, but I **assumed** it was **because** **_I_ ** **was in your lap**!"

"My dearest, if I got hard every time you were close or beautiful I'd never get anything else done. My body has had to adjust to my overwhelming love and desire for you - the fate of the world is at stake."

He stares at me for a beat, then snorts a laugh, shaking his head.

"That was… awful, _amatus_. Just **dreadful**. Truly. Maker, how did I fall in love with such a buffoon?"

"Just lucky, I guess," I grin.

He pulls me close and we drink each other's laughter as we kiss, all tongue and teeth and smiles. Chasing that lightness, I wrap my arms securely around him and lead him into a low dip, my mouth following and worshipping that temptingly exposed neck. His breath stutters, laughter shifts to moans, and before I know it I've laid him on the couch with my body caging his. He's delightfully disheveled with mussed hair, dark eyes, bruises blossoming, and kiss swollen lips by the time we hear the Qunari open the door. I retreat, reluctantly, but I'm surprised when my half naked lover doesn't immediately scramble in some vain attempt to compose himself. Perhaps he knows how ravishing he looks and wants to flaunt it for the giant horned man who thinks he's **pretty**.

"You know, Boss, if you wanted to get rid of me you could've just said. No need to go around harming innocent outfits."

"But then you would have missed this work of art."

"Mmm, gotta admit, that **is** a pretty picture…" Bull, _bless him_ , retrieves Dorian's soiled robe and deposits it in the water pail to soak. "You should ask Solas to paint it. It'd look **real good** pinned up on a wall somewhere."

"Told he thinks you're pretty," I smirk down at my lounging lover who's clearly having trouble deciding if we're mocking or appreciative. For what it's worth, I am VeryAppreciative.

"Pretty sure my exact words were a warning that 'the pretty ones are always the worst.'"

"Care to revise that opinion?" Dorian narrows his eyes in challenge.

Bull laughs.

"Look, the Boss is a big boy but he's also the only guy who can seal the rifts. Dunno if you noticed, mage, but I'm not a big fan of **demons** . If I thought you were any danger to the **one** hope of us **not** drowning in the things you'da disappeared long before you could fall into bed with him. You've got a wicked tongue on you," he pauses, eye on the Tevinter's mouth, and I don't think I'm the only one who sees the implication there, "but you're a good guy and any idiot can see you're crazy about your _amatus_."

A myriad of emotions wash over Dorian's face before it settles into a look that's… hesitant? Vulnerable? And achingly beautiful.

"Don't even need to see the way he's looking at you to tell he feels the same."

My beloved's eyes swivel to me and we share a look so tender it makes my heart clench. _Damn that Ben-Hassrath know-it-all._ The Qunari makes to slip away.

"Bull?" Dorian calls out suddenly. "I… Stay?"

"… Huh…"

 _Maybe not_ **_all_** _._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Communication is Key.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut begins in the next chapter, promise.

I know I'm staring. I can't help it. I'm surprised. Shocked, even. Not in a bad way, just… 

"Let me just make sure we're on the same page here. You're asking me to-"

"Stay." Somehow it doesn't sound like a request this time.

"Riiiight. And by 'stay' you mean…?"

Insecurity is rising in Dorian's eyes and I can see him coming perilously close to a defensive tirade or thorny dismissal. _Void take Tevinter_. I cover his hand in mine, stroking slow circles. His attention shifts to me and I can't help my tender smile when I see a little of that too-old, too-frequent hurt drain away.

"Look, you're both hot as hell and you've been sat there looking pretty at me all night, so I'm not uninterested. If you both want this, we can **definitely** go there… But I get the feeling you haven't exactly **talked** about this. So why don't you two **do that** and I'll go snoop through your desk for old times sake?"

"You've snooped through my desk?"

"Don't take it personally, I've snooped through everyone's desk."

"And here I thought I was special."

He snorts his amusement and heads off to violate the sanctity of my desk. I turn my full attention back to the man I love.

" **Is** this something you want?"

"I **did** offer the invitation, _amatus_."

"But did you say it because you want it or because you think I do?"

"You **said** you wanted-"

"Actually I asked if **you** wanted and then you responded by aspirating your wine which I don't think counts as an answer."

"… Ass."

I sigh.

"Yes, Bull is attractive and sometimes he says things that go to my… head. But I wasn't lying when I told you I wanted more than fun." I take cup his face in both hands, willing my feelings to somehow seep into him through the contact, to help him understand. " **You** are what I want. I am **yours**. You don't have to do things you don't want to do in order to keep me or please me."

"Besides be dragged from one frigid and barbaric wasteland to the next?"

"That," I smirk, "goes without saying."

It's his turn to sigh. Theatrically, of course.

"When you explained why you tried to **drown me** \- don't think I've forgiven you for that, by the way, you owe me another bottle and **a lot** of grovelling - it… got me thinking. While you were kissing me. The idea isn't… unappealing. So I thought, well, let's see, shall we? And then you were talking-"

"Was it clear that I wasn't mocking? Because I was very much Not Mocking."

"You're not on **fire** , are you?"

"Good point."

"But afterwards… You didn't see his **face** , _amatus_. It was so… And you were… I suppose I was swept up in the moment."

I coax him into an embrace.

"That's alright. Bull will understand and we-"

"Which isn't to say that I regret it."

I still. _Huh_ …

"So… you **want** -"

" **If** you want, _amatus_ , then: yes."

**_Huh…_ **


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've split this chapter so it's shorter than I'd initially intended because the second part isn't finished but I'm about to go into surgery and I wanted to put something up before I went under.  
> Please forgive any errors or format issues, my signal isn't strong enough to preview and edit properly.

I pull away just enough to gaze in wonder at my lover.

"Hey, Bull?"

"Yeah, Boss?"

"Break my bed?" I venture, eyes still fixed on my beloved.

Dorian shoots me a look of fond exasperation and the tension breaks. Well. Some of it. Not the good kind.

"Not on a first date," Bull's voice, pitched low and  **dripping** with promise, travels straight to my cock. "You gotta  **earn** that."

My partially exposed paramour shivers against my chest, but I can feel the heat radiating off him. Apparently he isn't immune to that tone either.

"For now," the Qunari settles back into his previous lounging posture on the bed, careful to keep his distance and a nonchalant air, "how about you show me the earlier drafts of that pretty picture I liked so much?"

I grin. Kissing my preened peacock of a boyfriend until he's an exquisite mess is hardly a hardship. 

I lean in slowly towards my lover, eyes curious, questioning, my smile turned tender. He returns my gaze with one blended with hesitancy and lust. Kissing him with an audience is… new. I know how much he's had to keep hidden -  **_damn_ ** _ Tevinter _ \- I know the urge is still there. Even now it still feels like a victory when he lets me hold his hand on our travels. I brush his nose with mine, reassuring. His thick lashes flutter closed as his lips meet mine in the barest caress. I can't help but chase the contact, pressing closer but still light and almost chaste. I pull away slightly, watching his unspeakably handsome face as I stroke back his hair. Now he's the one chasing, leaning forward, catching my mouth with his. I kiss him reverently, my hands caress his skin soft as a prayer, and feel him melt under my ministrations. I kiss him hungrily, his lips parted invitingly, and feel him cling to me with the breathless desperation of a drowning man. I kiss him scorchingly, matching the heat rising within him, and feel him let go.

Somewhere along the way he's under me, my body once more caging his against the couch. Resting the bulk my weight on my knee between his legs and one elbow, that hand cradling his head. My other hand free to roam, my other leg holding him in place. At his first soft moan my attention shifts to his neck, eliciting a string of more vocal emanations. His hips buck when I bring my teeth into play, and then he's grinding against my thigh as my mouth coaxes red and purple blossoms to form on beautiful burnished skin. He gasps his title for me when I flick my tongue but it's when I begin to kiss and suck in earnest that he arches decadently, slowly writhing beneath me rather than simply rocking his hips in seek of friction. I smile as I watch him, feel him. I wonder how much of this is him putting on a show - and if so, how much is for me and how much is for our silent audience. I gently rake blunted nails down his magnificently muscled flank. His eyes shoot open, surprise and shaky laughter. I've learned he's ticklish there, and while he may scold me for it, I've also learned such attentions make him achingly hard so it's difficult to let his protestations sway me too much. I smile down at him, going for loving but I suspect hitting predatory from the way his already heaving breath hitches.

"Having fun?" While I do choose the words, my voice comes out in a lustful growl completely of its own accord.

" _ Amatus,  _ **please** …" His comes out in a needy whine that takes the same route as Bull's promise-laced purr and I…  _ I want to burn Tevinter to the ground. _

Filled with feeling, I assault him with kisses and touches and bites and scratches and praises, leaving him helpless and writhing under my onslaught, holding on to my shoulders or hair or clothing for dear life. There's no chance of performance now, no room for him to think. Just pure, wild abandon. The strain in his breeches rutting against mine more often than not and I feel like a boy at his first forays into the carnal realms - about to spend in his smalls while dry humping his lover.

It takes every ounce of self-control I have to pull away; and it almost breaks at Dorian's raw, needy whines and grasping. The mesmerising tiger's eye bands of his irises are all but gone, his pupils blown so wide with lust. He reaches out, trying to pull me back with arms sculpted from years of wielding a staff. I contemplate pinning his arms, but I don't think I can without bending over him again and giving him what he wants. And I  **want** to give him what he wants too much already. I press a hand to his chest instead, holding him there. He pleads in a blend of Common and Tevene, rolling his hips under me as he tugs at my sleeve. I use my free hand to stroke and soothe as I murmur words of love and praise and reassurance. He is so  **beautiful** , and I tell him over and over like a litany. Eventually he seems to grow resigned that he can't move me and allows himself to still, though his chest heaves and black eyes silently plead. I switch from firm pressure and gentle soothing to slowly massaging tense and fluttering muscles. My magnificent mage moans under my manipulations. He's utterly bewitching.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frustrated mage is a stubborn brat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lived, bitch.
> 
> Another short one because recovery from anaesthetic apparently gets in the way of writing. More to come when I'm awake without being sick for more than a few hours at a time.

"Fuuuuck," Bull drawls appreciatively, drawing the somewhat fuzzy gaze of my beloved. "I knew it was gonna be pretty, but that was…" He grunts, and Dorian  **doesn't** make some jibe about eloquence. "You still want me to stay? I won't leave disappointed if you've changed your minds. A show like that is plenty worth the admission fee."

"You didn't pay an admission fee. Technically the Inquisition is paying **you** to be here."

"Even better!"

I snort and look down at my love, his hooded eyes staring hazily towards the bed. I cup his cheek, attempting to gently guide his face to turn to mine, then I'm choking on a strangled groan as he sucks on my thumb, still watching the Qunari who chuckles low.

"Not that I'm not enjoying your revenge on the Boss here, but I need to hear you say it, Dorian."

Defiance flares in the deliberate way his tongue swirls and his cheeks hollow, his hand gripping my wrist, making it clear he has no intention of releasing the captured digit any time soon. My frayed control creaks once more. I clench my jaw tight and try to remember why it was I'd been so averse to either of us spending in our smalls when the idea seems to have such obvious charm now.

The Iron Bull keeps that one all-too-perceptive eye locked on my lover's. A silent battle of wills rages; somehow I'm the one who finds theirs waning.

"Alright then," the horned warrior rises, stretching theatrically, and makes his way out. "Goodnight, Boss," his large hand strokes back my hair as he passes and I find myself leaning into the contact with eyes fluttering closed.

When he reaches the top of the stairs, he halts.

"Don't you think a barrier is a little childish?" I can  **hear** the smirk in his voice. "We all know how good you are at using your words."

His hand is in my hair again, stroking idly. He tugs gently and I practically squeak, my hips bucking automatically.

_ Oh. _ _ **Oh...** _

"Listen, if you want to gang up on the Boss for not giving you what you need, I'm all for that." My cock practically leaps at the thought. _This is **new**_. "I'm all for taking care of things for you too - you're pretty when you're turned on, I bet you're fucking beautiful when you come. But I need. To hear. You. Say. It."

After a moment or an eternity, my thumb is relinquished with a wet pop.

"Stay."


End file.
